filled her body
“I simply could not bear it,” she whispered. “Lord Ranulph is handsome, he is kind, he is wealthy. But I feel nothing for him. And if we were married – ”
She shivered again. She could not possibly spend the rest of her life with a man whose presence made her feel uncomfortable and whose touch left her cold.
The plane trees in the Square’s garden cast hazy shadows over the paths that wound through the garden.
Adella found a bench to sit on and wondered why she did not come here more often, as she felt as if she had stepped into a quiet oasis.
But her troubled thoughts would not leave her and, try as she might, she could not see a way out of a future that she was already dreading.
Adella had thought she was alone in the garden, but she could hear children’s laughter and happy shouts from the pavement outside.
‘If only I could be like them,’ she thought. ‘It must be Heaven to run and play in the sunshine without a care in the world.’
The children were coming into the garden and she heard them running along the path behind her bench.
“Are you the lady from No. 82?” a breathless little voice asked.
A slim fair-haired little girl in a blue cotton frock and a white pinafore stared up at Adella.
“Because if you are,” she said, “we have something very important to ask you.”
“Agnes!” a man then called from behind a thick rhododendron bush. “What are you doing?”
At the sound of his cheerful voice, Adella was consumed by a confusion of delight and pain.
Her heart beat so fast she was almost fainting, as a tall young man with fair hair and blue eyes emerged from the bushes, carrying a chubby young child in his arms.
It was Digby .
Digby, who she had thought was lost to her forever.
“It’s the lady from No. 82,” the little girl, Agnes, was saying. “Ask her, please, won’t you?”
Digby’s face had turned red and he was gazing at Adella, his face twisted with what looked almost like pain.
“I thought that I should never see you again,” he whispered.
“You promised to write to me – ” Adella began, but she was interrupted by the arrival of another child, a boy with bright red hair and sharp green eyes.
“Good work, Agnes,” the lad called. “What’s the answer?”
“We haven’t even asked her yet,” Agnes replied. “Go on, Digby, you do it!”
“Just a minute,” Digby said and put down the little boy he was carrying. “All of you, run off and play for a moment and I promise to ask Miss May about the ponies.”
“All right. If you promise.” Ned piped up. “Katy’s hiding by the bandstand, we’ll go and find her.”
And he seized his little brother’s hand and trotted off, followed by Agnes.
“Why are you here?” Adella asked after a moment as Digby seemed to have lost the power of speech.
“I am – sorry,” he stammered. “I had no idea that you were the lady from No. 82. It’s just such a shock to see you! I’ve never forgotten our walk in Oxford. I so wanted to write to you – but I was called away.”
Adella could not stop looking at him. Somehow in the weeks since she had last seen him, she had forgotten how much she liked to be with him.
She had turned her memory of him into someone thoughtless and unkind, who did not care for her.
But now that he was here in front of her, looking down at his shoes in such confusion and shame, he seemed genuinely upset that he had broken his promise.
“What do the children want to ask me?” she said.
Digby looked up, an expression of great relief on his face, as if he had been expecting her to scold him and explained that they had seen her little white ponies and were longing to borrow them.
“They are lively children, but very good-hearted and at the moment they have no Governess. I play with them as much as I can, but I have so little time.”
“Why, I should be delighted for them to make use of Sugar and Spice. I will speak to Jim at once. But Digby – I don’t
“I simply could not bear it,” she whispered. “Lord Ranulph is handsome, he is kind, he is wealthy. But I feel nothing for him. And if we were married – ”
She shivered again. She could not possibly spend the rest of her life with a man whose presence made her feel uncomfortable and whose touch left her cold.
The plane trees in the Square’s garden cast hazy shadows over the paths that wound through the garden.
Adella found a bench to sit on and wondered why she did not come here more often, as she felt as if she had stepped into a quiet oasis.
But her troubled thoughts would not leave her and, try as she might, she could not see a way out of a future that she was already dreading.
Adella had thought she was alone in the garden, but she could hear children’s laughter and happy shouts from the pavement outside.
‘If only I could be like them,’ she thought. ‘It must be Heaven to run and play in the sunshine without a care in the world.’
The children were coming into the garden and she heard them running along the path behind her bench.
“Are you the lady from No. 82?” a breathless little voice asked.
A slim fair-haired little girl in a blue cotton frock and a white pinafore stared up at Adella.
“Because if you are,” she said, “we have something very important to ask you.”
“Agnes!” a man then called from behind a thick rhododendron bush. “What are you doing?”
At the sound of his cheerful voice, Adella was consumed by a confusion of delight and pain.
Her heart beat so fast she was almost fainting, as a tall young man with fair hair and blue eyes emerged from the bushes, carrying a chubby young child in his arms.
It was Digby .
Digby, who she had thought was lost to her forever.
“It’s the lady from No. 82,” the little girl, Agnes, was saying. “Ask her, please, won’t you?”
Digby’s face had turned red and he was gazing at Adella, his face twisted with what looked almost like pain.
“I thought that I should never see you again,” he whispered.
“You promised to write to me – ” Adella began, but she was interrupted by the arrival of another child, a boy with bright red hair and sharp green eyes.
“Good work, Agnes,” the lad called. “What’s the answer?”
“We haven’t even asked her yet,” Agnes replied. “Go on, Digby, you do it!”
“Just a minute,” Digby said and put down the little boy he was carrying. “All of you, run off and play for a moment and I promise to ask Miss May about the ponies.”
“All right. If you promise.” Ned piped up. “Katy’s hiding by the bandstand, we’ll go and find her.”
And he seized his little brother’s hand and trotted off, followed by Agnes.
“Why are you here?” Adella asked after a moment as Digby seemed to have lost the power of speech.
“I am – sorry,” he stammered. “I had no idea that you were the lady from No. 82. It’s just such a shock to see you! I’ve never forgotten our walk in Oxford. I so wanted to write to you – but I was called away.”
Adella could not stop looking at him. Somehow in the weeks since she had last seen him, she had forgotten how much she liked to be with him.
She had turned her memory of him into someone thoughtless and unkind, who did not care for her.
But now that he was here in front of her, looking down at his shoes in such confusion and shame, he seemed genuinely upset that he had broken his promise.
“What do the children want to ask me?” she said.
Digby looked up, an expression of great relief on his face, as if he had been expecting her to scold him and explained that they had seen her little white ponies and were longing to borrow them.
“They are lively children, but very good-hearted and at the moment they have no Governess. I play with them as much as I can, but I have so little time.”
“Why, I should be delighted for them to make use of Sugar and Spice. I will speak to Jim at once. But Digby – I don’t
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